Intensive four grandchild family probably means shortish, or even weird posts for the rest of the month. This was the first full day! Pretty great; we walked up to see their aunt's sheep and goats.
Here is another poem from Darkness Sticks to Everything, by Tom Hennen, Page 136.
Outside Hay Pile 1956
Dark summer nights lead into autumn
And the frost that floated about me.
Cold air from the shadows flower over me
Onto the sheepskin coat I wore
That smelled of the barn and tractor oil.
On my back in the hay pile I watched the Milky Way
Turning through the far-off dusk
Like a country road,
Stars billowing thick as dust clouds
Behind a pickup truck.
If someone were to ask where the road leads,
Who would dare answer?
When the big dog pushed his head into my face
I held onto his fur with both hands
To keep from falling into the sky.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment